Enough Nerve To Do Anything
by morglaw
Summary: Etta life is nice simple, until one day something that start off simple just isn't anymore. T for now.


**So I could not get this out of my head. Argh! Wouldn't leave me alone. Didn't know whether or not to post this in specific movie or Avengers section. So… AVENGERS! :P Sorry about editing. Hope you like it :)**

**Chapter One – Pick Yourself Up**

"… Don't lose your confidence if you slip

Be grateful for a pleasant trip

And pick yourself up

Dust yourself off

Start all over again…"

– Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers

* * *

"Fantastic…" the woman's hazel eyes stuck to the new mess on red and white checkered floor.

"What was that Etta?" Her Aunt's worried voice asked over the sound of the music and through the other side of the swinging door that lead to the kitchen. "Is Mo here?"

"No not yet. It's nothing Auntie Rory. You just stay in the back."

"That doesn't sound very reassuring Etta" the older woman's voice moved towards the black swinging door that had small glass window cut into it.

"It's nothing I was just refilling the sugar and…"

Etta could practically see the weary woman sighing and rolling her blue eyes "I'll get the dustpan."

"Thanks." Etta called, bending over to pick up the bigger chunks of glass that had smashed when the sugar dispenser had toppled off the edge of the counter and on to the ground.

Luckily they the diner was in between the lunch and dinner rushes, no one was sitting at the counter and Wendy, the other waitress, could handle the two couples seated in her section. Other than glances at the initial noise, the customers didn't seem too bothered by the disturbance. Wendy had however taken the time to discreetly mouth the word 'Smooth' before turning back to charm her customers.

Etta knew Wendy had meant it lightheartedly, and had resisted urge to mouth something lewd back, instead she focused on the glass. She had to chuckle at the song that was playing 'Too ironic.' She vaguely heard the bell jingling when the front door opened as she carried on, humming along, knowing that Wendy could handle another table for a while at least.

"… all over again. Work like a soul inspired. 'Til the battle of the day is won. You may be sick and tired. But…"

"… But you'll be a man, my son!" A low unfamiliar joined in her song from above her.

"Whoa!" Etta fell back in surprise, landing on her butt with about as much grace as an elephant.

Before she could really see where the voice had come from, the person speaking had moved in blur behind the counter to help her up.

"Oh! I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't mean to… that is… I'm awfully sorry." He spoke as fast as he moved and Etta's eyes were still trying to catch up.

Some awareness came to her as she tried to push the really tall guy's hands away even though he was already in front of her "Careful there's…" realization hit her, "glass…" with a grimace she looked at the shards that had still been in her left hand when she had clenched in fear. She could feel a little pain forming "Great." She sighed, letting the guy help her stand up… she was brought out of her disappointed stupor when it occurred to her that this guy had pretty much lifted her up with the world's lightest grip and without much effort.

Right now all she could really see was his blue t-shirt and the edges of a worn brown leather jacket 'Ok time to look at Mr. Broad Shoulders.'

"Uh…" she tilted her brown haired head back to look up at him. 'Whoa… scratch the Broad Shoulders… Mr. Teeth with the Hair, the Eyes… wow, those eyes…' she was struck by them, it was strange for her to see such an apologetic expression especially in a city like New York, 'he actually looks so concerned.'

She managed to tear her eyes away from the concerned blue orbs before her when she heard the jarring sound of a throat clearing next to her from over the counter.

Wendy stare was deadpan but Etta could see the amusement in her brown eyes, as she stated drily "Etta you're bleeding."

"What?" suddenly Etta felt a stinging on some fingers of her left hand "Damn it!" she dropped the pieces of glass, seeing that it was actually just her index finger causing most of the blood flow from a relatively small pinprick, the rest were only equal to paper cuts. 'I'll have to stay away from lemons' she thought to herself, as she stuck her finger between her lips and rolled her eyes up to look at the guy again, suddenly feeling bashful and irritated at the same time.

"I am sorry ma'am. I truly didn't mean to scare you." The man released his light hold on her, taking a few steps back and bringing his left hand up to his chest. She swore he looked like he was about to bow.

Etta raised an eyebrow in question and turned her head to Wendy, who simply shrugged with a frown, handing over her orders and stating that she was going on a break.

Her hazel gaze followed Wendy as she passed behind the guy, signaling a thumbs up to Etta, before getting to the swinging door.

"I really am sorry." Etta heard the man repeat.

"Ahh" she bleated out when the guy turned his blonde head to see what she had been looking at in the now empty space over his shoulder "That's okay." She back drew his attention, slurping a little, her finger still in her mouth.

"That's very kind of you ma'am. It's just Swing Time was one of the first movies I saw." He was referring to song that had been playing, it was pretty typical music for the 'Sweet Ol' Diner' as it matched 1940s theme of the place. It was a quiet, cozy restaurant chock full of pieces of Americana and stuffed in amongst sky-scraping buildings on a moderately busy Manhattan street… very out of place 'more out of time actually' she thought of all the paraphernalia on the dark pastel red walls. Many a tattered American flag, paintings depicting the civil war, newspaper clippings ranging from Elvis to Rosa Parks to D-day, old movie posters.

Etta smiled at him as he was still trying to apologize even after being forgiven, she pulled her hand away from her lips, shaking the soreness out of it at her side "Yeah, no, I totally get it. Fred and Ginger are the best." She grinned.

He smiled genuinely, which Etta had to say was something to see. By his look Etta could tell he was drifting off to some nostalgic memory "My friends didn't think so, I ended up at the theatre all by myself for those movies."

"You saw it in theatres?" her interested piqued up, "That must have been cool. Wher…"

"Got it!" Though Auntie Rory had interrupted her questioning, Etta's brow had already furrowed. For some reason the man had started to frown before Etta could finish asking, however he had wiped the frown away before turning to face her Aunt. "Oh! It's you! Steve. How are you?"

Now Etta was really confused. "Steve?"

"Yes honey. He came in last week. Didn't I say?" Etta watched as her Aunt's gaze barely left Steve's face and became all gooey.

"Ah no."

"Oh well, he did. Didn't you Steve?"

Steve nodded like an obedient little boy scout.

'Maybe little isn't quite right.' Etta's hazel consideration ran over his form. 'Jeez he really has the whole posture thing happening, that side-parted and combed back hair too… wonder if his creases are straight?' she dropped her interested gaze to his pants which she saw were beige slacks '…with dirt smeared on the bottom? Curiouser and Curiouser, Batman…'

Out of the corner of her eye Etta could see the older woman blindly hold the dustpan out to her. Etta, who was steadily getting more amused with the situation, took the dustpan in exchange for the orders Wendy had left.

"Um Auntie Rory?" she got her Aunt's attention, gently waving the piece of paper at her. "Got some orders."

The kindly woman's face fell, "Oh… I'd better get on that." She craned her head to look at Steve her hand grasping his arm in a doting way "You'll stay for something to eat? Etta hasn't scared you off?"

"No ma'am. I've been thinking about that pie all week." The man stated, oozing a corny sort of charm, only Etta had to acknowledge that it was too sincere to really be corny.

"You be sure to give Steve a big slice ok honey." Rory directed her niece, eyes still stuck on Steve "He'll be off to Rocco's, won't you?" Etta wanted to scoff, it had sounded as though her Aunt was on the verge of speaking in a Southern accent.

"Sure thing." Etta assured, after Steve had confirmed that he would indeed be going to Rocco's boxing gym a few blocks down later on.

"I'll be right back." Aunt Rory spoke directly to Steve before snatching the orders from Etta and racing off into the kitchen.

"So… Steve…" Etta began, uncertainly as he looked at her patiently, hands clasped behind his back "you wanna get on the right side of the counter there buddy?"

"Right! Yes. Sorry." He sprang into action, returning to the customer side of the counter.

"That's all right. Let me just get my finger taken care of." She put the plastic dustpan down on the ground, quickly washing her hands in the small sink on the wall adjacent to the counter, even with her back turned she could feel his eyes watching her. It made her nervous. She saw that the bleeding had stopped, but she found the first aid kit under the sink and fumbled around with a bandage packet anyway, she pulled on some latex gloves too just in case. 'Why am I shaking?' she made herself exhale a wobbly breath to calm herself some before turning back to him.

He was seated next to where she had just been filling sugar at the counter and was now politely distracting himself by looking at the walls.

"Kay so… Steve…" she moved towards the counter, his blue eyes fell on to her form "it's just pie?"

He nodded. "Yes, apple, ma'am."

She squinted at him, laughing after a second, before stopping abruptly when he frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry." She coughed, shaking her head.

"Why were you laughing?"

"It's just…" Etta huffed, judging by his determined expression she knew that she would have to explain "I just realized in the span of about three minutes you've aged me about 20 years."

"Beg your pardon?"

"'Sorry ma'am', 'yes ma'am', 'three bags full… ma'am'." She stated plainly, getting a plate from under the counter and walking to one of the three covered pies at the other end of counter closest to the sink.

"Oh." Was his thoughtful reply.

"Yeah. Whipped cream?" she asked once she'd finished plating the dish.

"Got any cheese?"

Etta's face pinched for a moment, she looked at him as though she hadn't heard what he'd said "Oh! Uh huh, cheese…" she nodded, grasping her senses and crouching down to get the single packs of block cheese they had for people who wanted crackers to munch on while waiting for their food. "You from Boston?" she asked, shuffling some of the boxes around.

"Spent some time around there. How'd you know?" he asked, his voice raised a bit as he talked to her.

"Just thought so. You don't have an accent or anything, but it's just you gotta ask them to hold the sharp cheddar when you order pie in those parts." She teased, finally finding the cheese and standing up. She flushed when she looked at the slice pie again, realizing that it had been pointless for her to look around for the topping, he probably wanted the pie heated up in the kitchen and Auntie Rory and Louis, the other cook, already had everything they needed back there. Trying to hide her embarrassment, Etta went to the window cut into the wall behind her, taking the plate with her "Louis, Aunt Rory?" she called, smiling when she saw the rotund mass that was Louis approach the window. "Could you heat this up for me please? And stick some cheese on there when you're done?"

"No problem sweetheart." He wheezed, with a warm smile, taking the plate.

"Thanks, Lou."

She spun on her heel, momentarily forgetting the guy that she was placing the order for was sitting right there in front of her.

Etta had always felt weird whenever people had sat the counter, she wasn't ever really sure what to say when the mood got awkward and she ran out of small talk. If it was a busy day, it was usually all right, she didn't have to stick around and say stuff, something was always happening but on a quiet day it was strange for her.

"It should just be a minute." She spoke quietly.

He nodded, again very politely. Biting her lip, her eyes fell to the floor 'the sugar, yes!' she cheered, pulling off the gloves and reaching for the dust pan, she swept up the broken glass and spilt sugar. It didn't take that long, before she knew it she was done and left again to think of how to behave.

Wendy had come back from her break and had once more, unhelpfully pointed at Steve from behind his back, silently encouraging Etta as she made her way to the hostess stand at the diner's entrance.

'Yes, thank you. 'Cause I'm just gonna jump his bones for no reason here and now…' Etta glared at her friend, hoping that the look conveyed her message. When her stare returned to the counter Etta saw that Steve was looking at her with some concern. She flushed in embarrassment again, he had to have seen because he respectfully looked away.

She wonder if she should speak, but a fair amount of time had passed, she didn't know if it'd be odd to randomly start talking, plus he seemed pretty content with staring at the walls. Settling on finishing the task of filling the sugar dispensers, Etta put on some new gloves and got to work.

"Would you like some help?" his voice broke the heavy quiet between them, startling Etta enough to make her noticeably flinch.

"Whoa! Whoa!" he held up his hands, looking concerned, though a grin played on his lips "Sorry. You're a little skittish aren't you?"

Not sure if she should be offended, Etta defended her reaction "I just get startled by unexpected things."

"So you're skittish?" he repeated, his grin widening as he obviously mocked her.

Now Etta was sure she was offended, she opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Lou calling "Order up".

Grabbing the warm apple pie she smacked it down in front Steve along with a fork and knife wrapped in a paper napkin "Apple pie… boring style."

He didn't touch either of things she'd set down, he just straightened up in his seat, before saying "Boring? The cheese thing threw you off for sec didn't it, ma'am?"

The way he said 'ma'am' with that look in his eye, made her bristled in irritation "Big deal." Her gaze ran over him again, his hair, his posture, "When you order pie what do you order?"

"Apple and cheese. Why?"

"That's why it's boring. It's unadventurous… the same old thing every time, did you even look at the other pies on the menu?"

They stared at each other. 'This has gotta be the most unusual exchange I've ever had with anyone within ten minutes of meeting them.' She thought to herself as the silence grew between them.

"I am adventurous." He stated firmly, his blue eyes flitting to the daily specials' menu board "Give me a slice of peach and pish… pishti…"

"Pistachio." His eyes came back to her sharply when she spoke.

"That one." He gave her a curt nod, pushing his apple and cheese away.

Though she tried not to show it she was certain that he saw her anxiety as she plated a piece of the, as yet, untouched pie. She knew he saw it because any of the hardness in his expression dissipated away when he had looked at her again.

No one but her Aunt Rory and her big sister, Nora, had ever tried her pies. Though she had made them for the restaurant since she had been fourteen, people never seemed to gravitate to the odd flavour combinations. He took a bite, her hazel eyes stayed glued to his face, watching his mouth as he chewed, she wondered if it was too late to pry open his lips and swipe away the pie off his tongue.

His bright blue eyes widened "Wow…" he mumbled.

"Yeah I know, I'm so sorry. Here me get you some water to…" the remorseful words rushed out of her mouth.

"No, no. This is delicious!"

"Huh?" she halted in her reach to grab back the plate.

"I mean it. It's really good." Slid the plate towards his body.

"Oh…" Etta felt her cheeks warm up.

"You made this?" he stated more than asked.

"Yeah. I make a new one pretty much every day. But…" she shook her head, correcting herself "I mean they aren't here every day, just on Saturdays."

"Well if this is what you cook like, one everyday doesn't sound so bad to me." Steve smiled at her.

"It might just be you eating them then. Not many people wanna try new stuff out," she clarified "at least, I mean… that is, I don't usually berate people into eating my food…"

"It works" He chuckled "You should try it more often. Though I have to say it was a little strange… you calling me unadventurous. The girl who doesn't like unexpected things?" he took another bite.

"I don't know." She shrugged her shoulders, pursing her lips as she thought of what to say. "It's one thing to go looking for adventure but to have something sprung on you when you didn't ask…"

Something in his countenance darkened, his blue eyes suddenly looked very far away. "I can't disagree with that."

One of the couples had finished their meal and had come up to the counter to pay their bill. Etta was actually grateful for the interruption this time, it diffused whatever it was that was that had filled the air.

"So Ms. Etta." He began again once the couple had left the counter.

"Huh?" She asked, shoving the receipt from the customers into the cash draw of the register, she turned to see Steve with his mostly eaten peach pie in front of him, staring at her "Ah. Just Etta's fine."

"Etta…" he pronounced with considerable purpose "that's not a name you hear very often."

"Uh, I guess not. My mom and dad named me Ethel," she made a face in humourous disgust, causing him to scoff as she went on "but they called me Etta. Thank goodness for Ms. James." She wiped her forehead in half-playful relief.

His chin pebbled in confusion "Ms. James?"

"You know… Etta James" she paused waiting for his seemingly habitual polite nod, when it didn't come she continued "… the famous soul singer?" she frowned as he simply looked even more lost "No? Still not clicking?" as he shook his head, she moved to start to refilling the sugar again "Ah well, by the looks of you Fred and Ginger were more your generation anyway, the blues must have been after your time" she teased with a light laugh.

"Order up!" Aunt Rory's voice called, bringing Wendy over from her hostess position at the door. Almost as soon as Wendy had grabbed the plates and given Etta wink, Auntie Rory had sped out of the kitchen.

"I figured it out!" Rory screeched to a stop beside Etta, pointing at Steve's face in triumph.

"What Rory?" Etta asked, she could tell that Steve had no idea what was happening either.

"Do you know it's been bugging me since I met you last week?" The small, older woman turned her salt and peppered haired head up to look at Etta, at around 5' 3'' Etta wasn't exactly tall, but still had a few inches on her Aunt "Do you know who he looks exactly like?"

Etta's hazel eyes flicked over to Steve's slightly worried looking face, before returning to her Aunt's. "Who?"

"Uncle Henry."

Etta frowned "Who?"

"Henry Rollins. My eighth husband. Honestly Etta." She tsked.

"Oh yes, how could I forget. Uncle Henry." Etta rolled her eyes.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you dear." Aunt Rory replied offhandedly, quickly distracted by Lieutenant Manners again.

Once the older woman had given her attention fully over to Steve, Etta stuck her tongue out at her Aunt, Etta saw a barely there twitch at the man lips when she did.

"You're a prefect picture of him. His eyes were more green though, hair a little darker." Rory went on unaware of her niece's actions.

As she talked him Etta could fuzzily recall this Henry character, she had seen pictures and her grandfather, Auntie Rory herself, Nora and her mom had told her stories about him. If the stories were true, Aunty Rory had been head over heels, crazy, angry, sweet in love with Henry Rollins. Husband number six and eight. After the last time she had divorced him, she had sworn he would be her ninth and final husband.

At least he would have been if he hadn't been caught up in some bad business… the facts were kind of fuzzy and it had been so long since anyone had discussed it Etta could hardly remember. What she could remember though was that Henry had looked nothing like this guy… but guessing by the way that Aunt Rory was looking at Steve, there was clearly something about him that reminded her of Henry.

"You're sure? No Rollins in your family?" Rory prodded the poor man.

"I can honestly say that there's no way I could be related to your husband."

"My ex-husband, twice over." Rory added for some context, getting a shocked look from Steve. "You're sure?" she asked again.

"None of my family would have been around here then." Though he was smiling kindly, there was a bittersweet quality to his voice.

"Didn't you say you were from around Boston?" Etta remarked, trying to guide him toward a fib.

"I am… I mean, I was." He sort of stuttered.

"First generation right?" she guessed trying to help him out.

"Sorry?"

She tried to make it clearer for him "Your parents immigrated?"

"No." He stated in a truthful, clipped tone, evidently not taking the hint that she was trying to help get her Aunt Rory off his back.

"Then you moved from another state?" She attempted again.

It was the sound of a ringing phone that disrupted the conversation this time. Steve's head ducked around, he turned in his seat, earning a puzzled look from Etta and her Aunt.

"I think that's you honey." Aunt Rory stated to Steve.

"Oh!" he fumbled around with an old school flip phone that he pulled out his pants' pocket. "Excuse me" He gave Etta and Rory an embarrassed smile before answering. Etta thought about courteously finding a task to preoccupy herself with, Aunt Rory however had no such concern, she carried on openly gawking at Steve. His expression was steely and should have been intimidating but the combination of his eyes darting back to Rory's beaming face and the fact he was clearly unsure of how to act was quite funny.

"Aunt Rory" Etta began to address her Aunt, feeling bad for this guy that was too well-mannered to ask the older woman to back off.

But before she knew it the man had ended the call with a "Yes, sir." Swiftly shutting the phone and getting off his chair.

"Well, ladies, it's been a pleasure. But I have to get going."

"Nothing serious I hope?"

"No ma'am, just work." He answered Rory's question, as he pulled a wallet out of his jacket, putting some money on the counter. "You keep the change" he smiled at Etta, grabbing his fork to take one last bite of his pie "Truly delicious. Ma'am," he nodded in farewell to Rory, before turning to leave.

"You come back soon, won't you!" the blue eyed woman practically yelled after him.

"All depends upon the stakes…" he joked quoting a line from Swing Time, making Etta laugh and Rory's face crease with worry "You can count on it" he warmly reassured the older woman, letting her relax her worry a bit, as he waved and headed out the door. Through the pane of glass that made up the centre of the front door Etta could make out his shape on street, as he climbed on to a motorcycle in the darkening late-Fall evening.

'A motorcycle riding, proper talking, boxing, slack wearing, boy scout' she grinned to herself until her hazel eyes dropped to the cash he had left on the counter, frowning at what she counted, Etta thought to herself 'No he didn't…' he had paid for both of the pies and then some.

Grabbing the cash and looking up, she could see him kicking up the stand of the bike and could hear the sound of the engine starting. "Hey!" she called, running around the counter, passing Wendy and heading out the door just in time to see him speed off in to the distance. "Hey…" she trailed off weakly… knowing it was a lost cause.

She looked down at the bills clasped in her hand, "Next time…" she mumbled.

"Next time what?" Etta turned to see where the recognizable voice had come from.

"Maureen hi!" she squealed.

"Hi yourself." Maureen grinned up at Etta, who crouched down to give her best friend a hug.

Maureen was four feet tall, but that didn't stop from being the biggest person in any room she occupied. Etta could remember far too many nights in her life that had started out rather peacefully and ended with her having to explain some awkward situation to her Aunt or big sister. Usually the explanations started with the phrase 'Mo said…' and were the primary reason why whenever any big commotion happened Aunt Rory jumped to asking if Mo had shown up.

"Sorry I'm late but you'll never guess what I just saw." Her black haired friend looked to be nearly bursting with news.

Etta knew this kind of excitement in Mo was typically reserved either for her fiancé, Gordon, or for a particularly exciting job she had lined up at the shop. But Etta couldn't think of what could possibly be up with Gordon and the last time she had been at the Greasers Custom Auto Shop there hadn't been anything too out of the ordinary happening there "What?"

"Well, you, yelling like a moron in the middle of the street for one…" Maureen stated pointedly "… and second, a fully restored WLA Harley!"

"Wha…" Etta straightened up, her gaze going back to the direction that Steve had driven off in, where there were now bunch of different blinking city lights teaming around. "How? Where?" she asked her dark eyed friend.

"Ho, ho! Look at you, Ms. Psycho-anal-ysis still has a thing for real machines…" Maureen scoffed, ever since Etta had decided to choose Psychology as her Major in college Maureen had taken to teasing her.

She knew why, not only did she know that Mo was still sore about Etta effective ruining their plans of starting a business together after high school, though the dark haired mechanic tried her best to hide it. Etta also knew the teasing came from the fact that she was probably the worst example of someone who could ever be trusted with practicing any kind of therapy… her passions had always been pies and cars but in spite of that Etta had loved every minute of her BA. She had thought about applying to a Ph.D. program this semester but something had stopped her.

Etta didn't know why but she just couldn't do it. 'Liar…' she quickly stuffed the voice in her head down.

She remembered it so clearly… her profs, the TAs she'd been doing research with, her peers, they had all encouraged her to apply. Handing her applications and offering to write recommendation letters… She had stared at the forms for ages, choosing to apply instead to an Ed. D. program, knowing that the chances of her getting in without a Masters would be slim.

Still, her hesitation to go on in a doctoral program, didn't mean that Etta had regretted her past academic choices "It's analysis Mo." She retorted defensively "And you might wanna look into it if you think people are 'fake machines'."

"Really? Kay fine." Mo huffed jokingly and started walking away.

Rushing after her, Etta whined "Come on Mo, where'd you see it?"

"Just driving past, when I was walking up to meet you." Mo answered with a smile, holding open the door to the diner and waiting for Etta to enter first.

"Thanks," Etta stated absently to her friend, her mind going back to running off wildly after that odd man who had driven away. She tightened her grip on the cash in her uninjured hand 'Next time for sure.'

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**Hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Sorry about editing.**


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